


The Lessons We Have Learned

by Anonymous6285, Mr_Fahrenheit



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bed-Wetting, Body Swap, Bodyswap, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kissing, Rules, Secrets, Self-Harm, Truth or Dare, bi bri, nappies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Fahrenheit/pseuds/Mr_Fahrenheit
Summary: Brian, Roger, Deaky, and Freddie switch bodies, and they learn some pretty interesting things about each other.Title from 'Teo Torriatte' by Queen.





	1. Chapter 1

“If you had to kiss any one of us, Roger, if your life depended on it, who would it be?” Roger rolled his eyes.

“Really, Deaky? That doesn’t seem like a you question.” Deaky furrowed his brows and threw one of the throw pillows at the drummer.

“Answer the question, Roger,” Freddie prompted, throwing a glance at Brian, who was sitting in one of the chairs opposite the couch. Roger was in the other, and Deaky and Freddie were on the couch.

“Deaky, no offence, but you probably wouldn’t be great to kiss.” Deaky pretended to be super offended.

“Fine, well you wouldn’t be great to kiss, either!” Roger ignored him and continued to answer the question.

“Brian…” Freddie grinned, causing Brian to blush and look away. “I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to choose Freddie. It’s nothing against you, but I’m sure Freddie has more experience it.”

Freddie’s eyes went right over to the drummer, immediately feeling bad for Brian. He knew about the big crush he had on Roger. “What? Me? Why?”

“Why are you disappointed.”

“Oh, I’m definitely not disappointed, darling. But why didn’t you pick Brian?” Roger raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I would pick Brian. He’s got that curly hair, he’s tall, long fingers, his face--”

“Freddie, stop, please.” Brian looked at him with the softest face ever, and Freddie immediately nodded.

“Sorry, dear.”

“It’s alright.” Freddie stood up.

“I’m going to sleep. Goodnight, everybody.” And then he walked over to Roger and placed a big kiss on his lips that lasted until Roger pushed him away.

“What the fuck, Freddie?”

The singer shrugged. “You said you’d choose me.”

“Yeah. If my life depended on it.” 

“You never know. Live every day like it’s your last, darling.” He smirked and left the room.

 

***

 

Brian sat in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. At all. His facial hair was longer than usual, and it was driving him insane. One glance at the clock told him it was too early to get up and shave, but he didn’t care. He got up, careful not to wake his friend sleeping in the next bed, and snuck into the bathroom.

His hands felt weak, which made sense considering it was the middle of the night. But when he picked up his razor, it slipped right out of his hands, falling to what he thought was the floor. When he leaned down to pick it up, it wasn’t on the floor.

And then he saw it. In the toilet. “Dammit.” He wasn’t using that again, no matter how clean the toilet was. He bent down to the ground and opened the cabinet under the sink, pulling out a box to see if it had any spare razors. He only found a blade, and he felt his head start to spin.

As he picked up the blade, he couldn’t stop himself from suddenly making contact with his skin. Right under his elbow. He pushed it far in, but panicked when so much blood started coming out. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

When he did things like this when he was younger, his mother would always help him and make sure he was okay. He didn’t know if he was okay. He pulled the blade out, throwing it in the sink, and he ran to the kitchen and brought the first aid kit back into the bathroom. He didn’t know how to use any of the stuff inside of it. He had to wake somebody up.

 

***

 

Brian hesitated before waking up his friend. He hadn’t cut himself in years, long before he even met Roger. What if this whole thing scared Roger away? They were just starting to take off as a band, and he would’ve been at fault for ruining it.

But his mother had told him to tell anybody if he ever hurt himself again. His judgement wasn’t enough to make sure he was okay, and blood dripping down his arm and onto his hand was scaring him.

He lifted both of his arms and shook the drummer until he turned over in his bed, eyes flicking open. There was no turning back now.

“Roger.” His voice was so weak. It embarrassed him.

“What the fuck are you doing up, Brian?” Brian cringed at how annoyed he sounded. He wanted to go back to the bathroom and not bother anybody. He wanted to be able to deal with this himself and go back to sleep. But it was too late for that.

He looked down at his arm as Roger sat up in his bed. He followed Brian’s gaze, and his eyes went wide.

“Oh, my god.” He stood up form his bed and pulled Brian by the shoulder to the kitchen. “Sit down,” he ordered, pointing to the table for Brian to sit. He did.

“I’m sorry.” Roger ignored Brian as he searched through the cabinets for the first-aid kit.

“What happened, Bri? Did you fall out of bed?”

No, I found a razor blade under the sink and had a sudden, strong urge to cut myself with it, he thought. But instead of talking, he just shrugged. 

Roger, still looking through the cabinets, grunted. “Where the hell is the first-aid kit?” Brian didn’t want to answer. He’d brought the kit into the bathroom having no idea how to use any of the stuff inside. How stupid of him. “I swear it was in here.” Brian knew he should tell him.

“I brought it into the bathroom. I can go get--” Just as he started standing up, Roger stopped him.

“I’ll get it. You stay.” Brian nodded, and Roger walked to the bathroom. The first thing he saw was something bloody in the sink, and getting closer, he saw it was a blade. In a second, he realised that Brian had done this to himself.

Sadness flooded him, but he put the blade in the first-aid kit and hurried back to Brian.

Brian noticed the tears in Roger’s eyes as he fixed up the cut.

“Rog, are… are you crying?” Roger didn’t look up form the cut and didn’t answer, so Brian didn’t ask again. But he saw the blade in the kit, and he knew that he didn’t put it there. Which meant Roger had…

He waited in horrible silence for Roger to say something. Anything. But he didn’t.

After he finished with the cut, he took the blade out of the kit and handed it to Brian, who looked up at him, clearly confused.

“Brian, I-- I know you did this, and I’m sorry I didn’t… know. I feel like I should have, but…” Roger took in a deep breath, and Brian stayed silent. “Is this the only one?” Brian nodded, and Roger suddenly pulled him into a hug.

“Roger, I’m so sorry.” The hug ended, and Brian saw that the tears that were once in the drummer’s eyes were now rolling down his cheeks.

“Don’t, Bri. Don’t be sorry. As much as it pains me, I know you probably have your reasons.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” Brian looked down at his arm, touching the bandage.

“I didn’t want to, but I’m glad I do.”

“Why did you give me this?” He held the blade out, trying to give it back, but Roger wouldn’t take it.

“Brian, it really hurts me to even think think that you’d hurt yourself. But if you ever want to again, I want you to tell me, okay?” Brian nodded. “And I trust that you will. That’s why I gave it to you.”

“Rog, if I--”

“No. No ‘what if’s’. You come get me.” Brian nodded, and Roger pulled him into another hug. “I love you, Bri. God, I do.” Brian knew he meant platonically, but he still smiled. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to feel so bad.” Brian heard him crying and couldn’t help but cry himself.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this. I promise I’ll tell you if I feel like.. You know.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone, Bri.”

“Please, Roger.”

The blond sighed. “Alright, I won’t tell anybody unless you want me to.”

“Thank you so much.” Roger stood up and put the first-aid kit away, and the two went back to their room, putting the blade in Brian’s bedside table.

“Goodnight, Brian.” Brian didn’t respond. He only smiled to himself in the dark.

 

***

 

The next night, they were drunk as hell. Brian stood from the couch quickly, suddenly feeling very nauseous. He made it to the bathroom and threw up for five minutes straight.

“I’m going to bed,” Deaky said, standing. Freddie stood and followed him out of the room. When Deaky collapsed onto the bed still in his clothes, he opted to get and change into his pyjamas, but Freddie fell on top of him.

“Fred, what are you doing? I have to change.”

Freddie whined. “No. Don’t leave me. Please.” Deaky siged but agreed. He was too tired to get up anyway.

“Fine.” Deaky climbed into the bed properly, and Freddie did the same. Within seconds, they were both asleep.

In the bathroom, Brian rinsed his mouth out and brushed his teeth before going back to his and Roger’s room to find the blond had made his way back to his bed and had fallen asleep. He smiled at how peaceful the drummer looked.

He, too, was asleep soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Roger Taylor hated waking up. No matter what had happened the night before or who he was waking up next to, he just hated mornings. And this morning was no different. 

Except for one small detail. Freddie was practically on top of him. He screamed, waking Freddie up, as well. 

“What the hell, Fred? You can’t just just sleep that close to me! Weren’t you in your own room, anyway?” 

Freddie, who was faced away from Roger, didn’t move. He laid stiff as a board and didn’t say anything either. 

“Freddie! Wake up!”

“Sorry,” he heard. “And you can stop calling me that.”

“Why?” 

“I’m not Freddie! Why does your voice sound so familiar?” 

“I don’t know. It doesn’t sound normal. That’s for sure.” 

Freddie, who claimed not to be Freddie, turned around. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Freddie nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, for starters, I pissed the bed. And, er, you’re me.” Roger stared at Freddie. 

“What?” He pulled the covers off the two of them, seeing that his own pants were the ones that were wet. Not Freddie’s. “Well, seems you lucked out, Fred. I’m the only one who wet the bed.”

“No. I’m not Freddie. I’m Deaky. And you’re in my body. And therefore, I wet the bed.”

“How…?” Roger looked down at his body. He was right. His hair went down further than it usually did and sure as hell wasn't blond. The jeans now stuck to his legs didn’t belong to him. They were, in fact, the bassist’s. 

“Sorry.” Deaky started getting up off the bed, and Roger did the same. The inside of his legs hurt like hell when he started walking, but he tried not to let it show. He helped the other man pull the sheets off. “I’ll throw these in the wash. You can put your, er, my clothes in after you shower I guess.”

“You can shower first. I’m a bit hesitant to unclothe somebody else.” Deaky smiled. 

“I’m surprised. You’ve never done that before?” 

“Oh, shut it. I mean, like, I’m you, so I have to, like, shower… as you. It’s just kind of awkward.” 

“Would you prefer I shower for you?” he joked. “Because that’s even more awkward.”

“This is so gross.”

“Go shower, whoever you are.”

“I’m Roger! Jerk!”

“All I can see is myself! Don’t get mad at me!” Roger groaned and went off to shower. 

 

***

 

Freddie’s eyes shot open. He didn’t feel right at all. He sat up and raked a hand through — that was definitely not his hair. What the fuck? He stood and went over to Roger’s bed, where he was still so peacefully sleeping. Why was he in Brian and Roger’s room? Where was Deaky? Where was Brian? He shook the blond awake.

“What do you want? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Well, get up I don’t feel very good.”

“That’s not my problem, Roger. Go back to bed.”

Freddie tilted his head, clearly confused. Why was Roger talking to Roger? “Stop talking to yourself and get up.”

“Prick,” the other said almost inaudibly.

“Hey! I heard that.” The blond groaned.

“Look! I’m not talking to myself, you dumbass! I’m talking to you!”

“Roger, get up!” Freddie’s voice was so loud, but it still sounded so weird to him. And it felt weird. His throat didn’t feel the same as it normally did when he spoke.

“You think this is funny?” The man on the bed threw the blanket off of himself and spun around to see. And he let out the loudest, longest, most horrific scream Freddie had ever heard. Freddie threw his hands at the other’s mouth only to pull back. Those were not his hands. They were a different skin tone, and the fingers were much longer than his. He had Brian’s hands.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself just as Roger burst through the door, hair still wet from his shower. He was taken aback by the sight of himself right there. His living, breathing, moving, scared self.

“Who are you?!” Brian screamed, getting up off the bed and running over to Roger. Roger could feel his heart beat go up more than it had in years.

“I’m Freddie! I think I’m Freddie.” Freddie ran out into the hallway to look at himself in their mirror. “I’m definitely not Freddie.” The other two followed, and Brian, too, stepped in front of the mirror. His jaw dropped.

“Oh, my God! I’m Roger!”

 

***

 

They all sat on the couch watching the television, but none of them were able to actually focus on what was going on. 

“Do you think we’re stuck like this?” Roger said, looking down to his hands. 

“I think the better question would be how the hell did we get like this?” Freddie said. 

“No, it’s how do we get out of this?” Brian said. He sighed.

“Please don’t argue about it. The last thing we need is more stress.”

“Deaky’s right.” Freddie took a cigarette out of the pack on the table, putting it to his mouth. As he was about to light it, Brian quickly knocked it to the floor. “What the hell, Freddie? That’s not your body. You can’t do that.”

“Jesus, Brian. Why so strict?”

“Because I don’t want lung cancer. That’s why.”

Freddie snorted and looked at Deaky, which he had to admit was a little bit strange. “Lung cancer. Who the hell does he think he is? You can’t prove that.” Brian’s face grew angrier.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, Freddie. You’re not smoking in my body. Period.”

“Ha. What else are you going to do? Make me not eat meat?”

“Yes, actually. That’s my body. Not yours.” Freddie grunted, and as the two of them argued, Deaky stood and went to go get a sheet of paper and a pen. When he returned, they quieted down.

“What are you doing?”

Deaky sat the pen and paper down on the coffee table. “I’m going to write some things down. Things that you’re not aloud to do in each others’ bodies.”

“That’s a good idea,” Roger said. “Let’s all do that.” Deaky started writing:

‘While I’m in Brian’s body, I promise not to eat meat or smoke.’

“Anything else, Bri?” he asked, showing the paper to Brian. The guitarist shook his head. “Alright. Freddie, is there anything, you don’t want me to do?” Freddie looked at the ground.

“Well, I, er… there’s some stuff on my back. If you could just… not look at that, it’s be great. Really.” Deaky raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff?”

“He means hickeys, Deaky,” Roger said matter of factly. This made the bassist blush like mad. He quickly looked down to the paper.

‘While I’m in Freddie’s body, I promise not to look at the hickeys on his back.’

“Thanks, dear.” Deaky smiled and nodded shyly.

“Well, I don’t really have too much except don’t go too far on the alcohol. And the smoking.”

“Fair enough.”

‘While I’m in John’s body, I promise not to drink too much alcohol or smoke.’ Roger grimaced when he saw the smoking thing, too, but he was respectful. It wasn’t his body, after all.

“Rog?”

“Er, sex. No sex in my body, Brian. No offence, but I don’t want you to ruin my reputation.” They all looked at him, shocked, which made him laugh. “I’m kidding. I know you wouldn’t ruin my reputation, but still no sex.”

“It would be a bit awkward.”

“Can we still… you know…” Brian looked down at his hands, embarrassed that he had said that out loud.

“I supposed,” the drummer said. “I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck like this, but I don’t think I can go that long without…” He trailed off. John started writing on the paper again.

‘While I’m in Roger’s body, I promise not to have sex.’

After they all signed it, John went to magnet it to the fridge. “Where we’ll all see it for as long as this goes on.”

Freddie nodded and him and Brian sat down for a cup of tea. Roger went off to the bathroom, and Deaky followed, waiting outside the door until he was done.


	3. Chapter 3

After the flushing stopped, he heard a knock on the door. 

“Roger, it’s Deaky. Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” The door was unlocked. They always left it that way.

“Hey, so…” Deaky started as Roger zipped his pants up and turned to face Deaky, who had now stepped in the bathroom and closed the door back. “Sorry about the whole bedwetting thing.”

“It’s fine. For all we know, it was my fault.” He smiled awkwardly. 

“No, Rog. I… I wet the bed.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Deaks.”

“No!” Deaky protested, causing Roger to back up a little. “I mean I… I wet the bed. Like, every night.”

Roger didn’t seem to have any words. He stared at Deaky as if he’d never seen him before. “I didn’t know you—“

“Yes. I know. It’s not something I talk about, Roger.” He got red really fast. 

“I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell anybody?” Deaky shrugged, feeling tears poking at his eyes. 

“I didn’t need to. And I still don’t. Don’t worry about me, Rog.”

“Then why’d you tell me?” 

“I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but for now, you’re stuck in my body.” Roger looked down. “So, er, this is embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. It’s really fine. You can’t help it.”

Deaky smiled nervously. “Mhm,” he mumbled before leaning down and opening the cabinet. “Er, there’s some stuff down there. I only have to— you, I guess — only have to wear them at night. If you need help putting them on, you can—“

“Hey, hey, you’re shaking. Calm down.” Roger grabbed Deaky’s hands. “Calm. I’ll just put it on now. I mean, it’s your body anyway, right?” In getting no response, Roger spoke again. “Okay?” This time, Deaky nodded. 

“Sorry. This is just so weird, being talked to by myself.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty weird.” Roger leaned down and opened up the cabinet, pulling out a single nappy.

Deaky covered his face with his hands. “This is so embarrassing! I’ve never had to watch myself do it!” 

“It’s fine, Deaks.” Roger then hesitantly took off the pyjama pants and underwear underneath them, as well. After throwing the underwear into the dirty clothes hamper, he stepped into the padded garment. It scratched his inner thighs as it pulled up. “These marks on your leg. They hurt.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to have to deal with this. It’s my problem.”

Roger shrugged before pulling the pyjama pants back on. “Movie night,” he said, trying to be as cheerful as possible. They both left the bathroom and made their way back to the couch.

 

***

 

Brian cringed when he realised when he realised he wouldn’t be able to put off using the bathroom forever. He stood up and started to leave the room, not asking for them to pause the movie.

“Where are you going, Bri?” Brian turned around and squirmed.

“To the toilet, Rog. You have a problem with that?”

“Well, it’s kind of--” Brian squirmed again.

“Roger Taylor, if I don’t go to the toilet right now, I might piss all over your clothes.”

“Go, darling. Roger, shut up and let the poor man pee.” Brian wasted time scampering away.

“This feels really awkward.”

“Calm down. Everyone else has gone to the bathroom. He’s been waiting all day, dear.”

“He better not be hurting me.”

 

***

 

In the bathroom, Brian found that really didn’t want to pee. He didn’t want to unzip his pants. He didn’t want to reach into his pants, grab onto Roger’s cock. God. That was new.

He squirmed again, suddenly more aware of how bad he really had to go. He sighed and went back out to where the movie was on.

“Freddie, can I talk to you?” He said softly, his foot tapping on the floor. They all looked at him, and Freddie’s brow furrowed. “Please.” The word was so quiet, and they all heard his voice crack.

“Of course, dear.” He got up and followed him into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

“Fred, I can’t go to the bathroom,” he said, ashamed as he looked down at the floor. Freddie led him to the bathroom, closing the door behind them. “What are you doing?” Brian asked, slightly annoyed.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Freddie rolled his eyes and sighed. “Why can’t you go to the bathroom?” Brian felt his bladder yell at him.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. I…”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Freddie spoke. “Is it because you like him?” Brian covered his face and groaned.

“I think so. God, Freddie, what would you do?” Before Brian knew what was happening, Freddie had his lips against Brian’s. The guitarist immediately pushed him away. “What are you doing?!” There were tears forming in his eyes.

“Congratulations, Brian. You’ve officially kissed Roger. Well, your body has kissed Roger’s body.” Brian’s jaw dropped.

“Christ, Fred. You could’ve told me before you did that. We’re not supposed to be doing anything with each other’s bodies.”

“We said no sex. And I don’t know about you, but that felt really good.” Brian took a deep breath before nodding. So Freddie pushed him into the wall, kissing him harder than before.

Brian kissed back, even though it felt weird that he was kissing himself. And then he remembered his small problem.

“Freddie, wait.” The singer didn’t hesitate pulling away. “I still have to pee,” he said shyly. Freddie nodded and backed away.

“I’ll leave, darling. You going to be okay?” Brian nodded. “Alright.” Freddie seemed disappointed as he started to walk towards the door, so Brian tried to cheer him up.

“Wait. I… can we do that again sometime?” This made Freddie grin.

“Have fun peeing, darling. Goodbye.” Brian laughed as he left the bathroom.

After Brian was finished, he couldn’t help but look at his butt. Shit. But as he pulled his pants back down, he saw something… different. A black marking seemed to take the form of an ‘S’ as Brian pulled his underwear further down. When they were completely off, he saw that it spelled ‘LOIS’. Who the hell was Lois?

His jaw dropped, and he quickly pulled his pants back up. His heart was beating so fast as he made his way back to the living room, trying to keep a calm face.

 

***

 

After the movie that night, Brian sat on his bed, trying to keep his eyes on the paper, but he kept eyeing the drawer where he and Roger had decided to put the razor blade.

‘Don’t do it,’ his brain told him. ‘Go find Roger. You promised you would.’ 

He quickly looked back down to read the day’s news. New movies, celebrity birthdays, politics, the crossword. There was something at least interesting. He picked up a pencil and started reading the clues, but found he couldn’t focus on any of the words.

He looked back at the drawer. ‘Don’t do it.’ He put the crossword and pencil down on his bed, standing up. ‘No. Go to Roger. Now.’ He pulled open the drawer and saw it sitting there in the corner by a pair of scissors. It still had blood stains on it.

He reached down to get it, and when he had it, he quickly stepped away, over to the corner of the room. The shorts he had on made his legs an easy target, and he laid the blade on his thigh. It was cold to the touch, making him want to shove it into the skin even more.

‘Roger! This is his body! You shouldn’t do this.’ His thoughts scared him, and before he knew it, the blade was deep in his leg. ‘Oh, no.’ He pulled the blade out, blood dripping on the floor. But then he pushed it back in, deeper, on another part of his leg and pulled it about an inch. ‘You need to get Roger.’

And then the door swung open. Roger walked in, and the first thing he saw was the drawer open. Brian dropped the blade, letting it fall to the floor with a small clank. The drummer turned.

“Oh, my god. Brian.” he sped to his friend, kneeling down and inspecting the obvious cuts on his leg. Blood was dripping out of them and to the carpet floor. Brian closed his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Roger took the blade up off of the floor, putting it on the table in between both of their beds.

“Brian, you promised…” He trailed off, sighing. “I’ll be right back.” When he returned, he had the first aid kit.

“Roger, I know. I should have come to get you, but I couldn’t stop myself.” As Roger cleaned his cuts, Brian couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.

“Brian, I… why would you… You’re in my body! How could you just…?” He grunted, looking angrily up at Brian. His eyes were focused on the angry drummer so intently. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Brian shrugged.

Eventually, his cuts were bandaged, and Roger got some towels,starting to soak up as much of the blood off of the carpet as he could. Brian closed his eyes, standing up from where he was and walking over to his bed.

“Roger, I’m sorry. I was gonna get you. But I had to… I had to.” Roger’s brow furrowed in anger. 

“Brian, I know this is hard for you, but I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t cut me up. I don’t want people thinking I’m like… that.” Brian felt apang in his heart. He couldn’t believe Roger just said that. He looked down at the floor, wanting to just disappear. He couldn’t stand being there anymore. Roger noticed the uncomfortable silence and looked up to see Brian. “Oh, shit. Brian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean it at all.”

“Why would you say something like that? You think I want this?” Roger stood and went to Brian’s bed, sitting down next to him.

“Bri…” Brian stood up, stepping away from the bed.

‘Roger, you look so good when you feel bad,’ he thought. He covered his mouth, gasping and hoping he hadn’t said that out loud.

“Brian, I’m sorry.” 

‘Kiss me, Roger.’ Why was he thinking this? It’s all he could think about. 

“Brian, ple--”

“Roger, I’m in love with you.” Both of hands flew up to his mouth, but the drummer only stared blankly at him.

“What?” His voice sounded so distant from the world, almost as if he was afraid.

“Nothing.” And then he started to think about what the clothes on his body were covering up. The beautiful chest, big cock, the butt. Lois. Who was Lois, anyway?

“Brian May, did you just--?”

“Who’s Lois?” Silence. It made the guitarist uneasy. He hated silence. “Why is she so important that you got her name tattooed on yourself. Permanently there?”

“She’s not important. She’s nothing. How did you even see that?”

“I-I was looking at you in the mirror, and I saw it… and i didn’t know--”

“When?” Brian took a deep breath.

“Just the other day.” He could feel Roger get even more angry.

“You’re sick, Brian. You’re absolutely sick! You fall in love with me, and you take advantage of this weird situation we’ve been put into. You cut me up with your stupid. Fucking. Blade. And you… you use my body just to look at it in the mirror.” He took a minute to catch his breath, and he immediately felt awful about what he’d said.

For a few seconds, it was quiet. “Roger, I really didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you didn’t really mean to. I know you can’t always… control things like that, Brian. But...“ He sighed. “Are you really in love with me?” Brian shyly nodded. 

“I can’t help it, Rog. I mean, look at you.” Roger laughed a bit.

“Even when you’re being yelled at and shamed, you’re still so nice. I’m really sorry.” Brian shrugged.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable.” Roger sighed.

“It’s fine. I’m just overreacting. It hasn’t exactly been the best week or anything.”

“Yeah.” Roger got out of Brian’s bed.

“Well, I’m gonna go to sleep now. Goodnight, Bri.”

“Goodnight, Roger.”


	4. Chapter 4

Roger’s eyes flickered open to see that it wasn’t daylight yet. He closed them back again and rolled over in his bed, about to drift off to sleep again, but he froze where he was and remembered that last night, he hadn’t put on a nappy.

“Fuck.” Pretty much every part of his body under the covers was soaked, and it made him want to just cry, but he was able to keep his tears back as he stood to inspect the damage. 

It was bad. He stepped out of his pants as soon as he could. They felt disgusting on his legs. The stain on his bed was so big, he was sure the mattress was ruined. He groaned and pulled everything to the floor, not knowing what to do next. 

“Fuck!!”

This made Brian sit up, rubbing at his eyes. “You alright, Rog?” Roger gasped and turned around. Brian saw his wet underwear and connected the dots between them and the pants and sheets on the floor. “Oh.”

“Go back to sleep, Brian. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Roger ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the sheets and bed, wondering what to do. 

“Roger, did you wet the bed?”

“Yes. Shut up.” Brian stood up and walked over to him, picking up the pair of pants. “I can take care of it myself, Brian.”

“I don’t mind.” Roger grunted. “Why don’t you go have a shower? I’ll take care of this.” He motioned to all of the dirty laundry. 

“I can’t let you do that. I’ll do it.”

“Roger, please—“

“Brian, I can clean up my own mess, okay? I don’t need you to make me feel like I can’t do anything by myself.” Brian seemed taken aback but still nodded. “And you’re so bloody nice. All the time. I mean, you’re insisting on cleaning up something that I pissed all over. I just don’t understand it. Why can’t you be rude for once?”

“Rog…”

“No! I’m not just going to go have a shower and let you clean everything up!” He took a deep breath, throwing his face in his hands. 

“Why would I want to be rude to you? You haven’t done a thing to me. And it’s not like you did this on purpose. Did you?” Roger shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna help you, whether you like it or not.” Roger was silent as Brian practically pulled him to the bathroom to shower. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine. It happens. Shower, Rog. And actually clean yourself. That’s not your body.”

“Yeah, okay.” Brian left, and Roger cried, feeling as if he had let Deaky down. If he had just remembered to put on a nappy, none of this would have happened Band even though he hadn’t told Brian why it happened, he thought it all the same. 

 

***

 

That night, the four of them went out to a club. Deaky didn’t feel good at all. All he wanted to do was go to the bathroom and throw up, and he tapped Roger on the shoulder. The blond turned around.

“Just a second, Deacy. I’m talking with this really hot girl.” Deaky was going to patiently wait, but when his stomach started churning, he practically ran over to the bathroom, but something wasn’t quite right.

As soon as he felt something cold on his back, he stopped where he was, afraid he might throw up right there. He tried to keep walking to the toilets, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him back, and he felt a stinging in his back.

“Come with me, f*g.” Deaky gasped and tried again to get away, but failed. “You’re going to follow me outside, or I will hurt you very much.”

He couldn’t try to escape now and followed the man out the doors, glancing at his friends. But they were too wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t notice him.

A few tears fell as the man practically pushed him outside and down the street. It was raining. Not too hard, but hard enough that his hair was starting to get very wet.

“W-where are we going?” The man didn’t answer. He pushed Deaky into the first alley they passed. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up, f*ggot.” The bassist’s heartbeat sped up when the man shoved him against the wall and started undoing Deaky’s button and zipper.

“Please, just leave me alone.” No response as the man snaked down his pants and grabbed onto him. He panicked and struggled to break free, only for the man to squeeze him. Hard. He cried in pain.

“L-let me go ! Let me go!” He pulled, and Deaky remembered how badly he had to throw up. Maybe if he… 

Before he had time to think, his stomach had other plans. All of the contents of his stomach were thrown onto his shirt and on the man in front of him, who immediately pulled back.

“What the fuck?”

“Hey!” shouted a familiar voice. Roger had found him. “Get away from my friend!”

“No problem. Your friend puked all over me.” The man threw his hands up in surrender and started backing away. As soon as he was out of sight, Roger ran over and took Deaky’s hands in his own.

“Hey, you alright?” Deaky looked down at his shirt and then back up, completely mortified. The first thing Roger saw was not the dirty shirt but that his pants were undone. Deaky realised he must have not seen much when his jaw dropped. “Did he…?”

“I’m f- fine, Roger. Really.” Deaky could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he couldn’t cry then, when he was trying to prove he was okay.

Roger looked him in the eyes. “I’m gonna zip your pants back up, okay?” Deaky nodded. As the blond bent down and started doing his pants back, he saw the sick. “Hey, what happened?”

As he stood back up and placed his hands near Deaky’s shoulders, he got a response. “The man, he… he had a knife. And I thought he was going to stab me, but he just t-took me outside, and h-he…”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Roger noticed how badly his friend was shaking.

“He grabbed onto me, and then I.. I threw up, and he left, but you showed up.” He failed to mention what the guy kept saying to him. Roger hugged him.

“I’m so sorry, Deaks. I should have gone with you. I … shit. I’m sorry.” Deaky shrugged. 

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up, okay?” The bassist followed him back to the others, who felt awful as soon as they saw Deaky.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright.” Deaky locked eyes with Roger as a way of warning him not to tell them what had really happened. “Wait, dears, what happened to your hair? Were you two outside?” Roger shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, Freddie. He’s alright, right?” Deaky nodded.

“I’m alright.”

“Let’s get on home then.”

 

***

 

The next day, Freddie let his now long fingers dance across the keys of his piano, feeling the melodies move though him. He was in absolute heaven until he noticed something on his left arm, rather Brian’s. It wasn’t quite a scar yet, so whatever had happened must have happened recently.

And then he realised this wasn’t something that just happened. Brian had done this to himself, and Freddie suddenly felt his eyes get hot, tears immediately falling down his cheeks. He covered his face and it fall onto the piano in front of him, playing the ugliest chord he’d ever heard.

Roger popped in the doorway a few seconds later.

“Everything okay in here?” When he saw Freddie, he walked over to the piano bench. “Fred?”

“Roger?” Freddie looked up, crossing his arms so that Roger didn’t see the cut, but Roger knew he was hiding it. And it was probably the reason he was crying, too.

“Hey, you alright?” He sat down on the bench next to Freddie. Freddie nodded. “You sure? What’s going on?”

“I just… can’t come up with any songs,” he lied.

“The one you were playing earlier sounded nice.” Freddie shrugged and looked away. “You sure there’s nothing else bothering you? No offence, but you’ve never been this upset about something like that.”

Freddie then started crying even harder than before. “It’s everything that’s going on. I mean, it can’t just be me that’s been shocked at all… this… has brought along.” He stopped crying, but tears were still threatening to fall.

“You’re not the only one, Fred. It’s been hard. I know.”

Freddie looked at his now twiddling thumbs under the piano. “I need a hug,” he said weakly. Within a second, he was enveloped in Roger’s arms.

“I’m always here. If you’re not feeling great, I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you so much.”

They stayed in the hug, neither of them brave enough to break it.


	5. Chapter 5

Roger felt awful about Deaky’s problem. He wanted nothing more than to help him get rid of it. So he went to the library to read up on it a bit, only finding one book. How could there only be one book?

He checked out, trying his best not to blush too hard and then hurried back home, hiding it from his friends until he got to his room, where he sat and started reading it.

 

***

 

“Deaky, is everything alright?” Brian asked. He was busy making dinner, and Deaky had been quiet since he’d walked into the kitchen, not even saying a word.

“Yes,” he said. One word. 

“What… what happened? Last night?” Deaky drew in a shaky breath.

“It’s not important, Brian. I just.. Somebody just took me outside and…” He trailed off. He had to stop talking. Oh, God. He had to just keep it in his brain, in his hole of sadness. Brian didn’t need to know.

“What? Why? Did they hurt you?” 

“No,” he lied. “Listen. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Brian smiled weakly.

“If you say so, but if they did do something to you, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Deaky nodded and then went to watch tv with Freddie.

While watching TV with Freddie, Deaky couldn’t help but notice how quiet he was. But he knew that all that had happened was pretty hard to come to terms with and assumed Freddie was just thinking about it.

The show on was a game show. A Japanese game show where people wearing different colours had to climb up really slippery stairs. Deaky found it funny that every time one of them made it up, he fell again, taking the rest of the people with him.

He sat and watched the show until somebody tapped his shoulder. He turned around to see the drummer standing there behind the couch. He looked very out of place.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Deaky nodded and followed him to the hallway where their bedrooms and bathroom were.

“Is everything okay?”

“Er, you’re-- I’m --out of nappies. I used the last one last night.” Deaky’s face didn’t change as he nodded.

“It’s been a while since I got more. We might as well go get some now before it gets too dark out.” Roger nodded.

“Yeah.” They both left the house, Deaky to show Roger which ones to get in case he had to go by himself at some point. That left Freddie alone on the couch.

And all he was thinking about was how disinterested he was in everything. And every little thing made him want to burst into tears. Every time Brian came in from the kitchen while something was cooking and laughed at the show, he just got sad. He couldn’t even explain it. He had the worst case of apathy he’d ever had.

And then he looked back down at his arms. Those scars. They hurt him deep inside.Not a physical pain, but emotional. Brian had hurt himself, but why? Was it something he had done or said? Of course it was. His brain kept telling him that he was the least talented and most overrated one of the four of them, and that had to be the reason Brian cut his arm. There was no other explanation, was there?

Suddenly, he burst into unexpectedly loud tears. Brian was by his side in a second.

“Freddie? Is everything okay?” Freddie shook his head. He could tell Brian what was going on, right? It was Brian’s body.

“Brian, your arm…” He held out the arm for Brian to see and ran his finger gently over where the cut was. “Did you…?”

“Oh, Freddie. I’m sorry. I… Jesus, Fred. I didn’t mean for you to… ugh.” Brian gave up trying to talk, pulling Freddie into a hug. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“So you did….”

“Yes, I.. I do. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. I should have told you.” Freddie sniffled and wiped his tears away. Why was he crying so much? He never cried at all. He just wanted to be himself again.

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t. Nothing was fine.

 

***

 

When Brian went to bed, he saw that Roger was laying in bed, as well, but he wasn’t asleep. He was actually reading.

“Rog? Are you reading a book?” Roger quickly closed it and his it behind his back.

“N-no. I was just.. Getting ready for bed.” Roger put it under his pillow quickly ad scampered out of the room to put on his pyjamas. Brian stood and took the book out from under his pillow, reading the title:

‘Bed Wetting: A Guide to Chronic Nocturnal Enuresis’

He sighed just as Roger walked back in the room. “I forgot my shirt,” he said, then saw Brian. He pulled the book away from him, but it seemed to be too late.

“Roger, it was one time. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not about that, Brian! It’s Deaky--” He stopped himself, throwing a hand over his mouth.

“What?”

“It’s…. Nothing.”

“Wait, no. It’s not nothing. What about Deaky?”

“I told you it’s nothing.” Roger grabbed his shirt and stormed out of the room, leaving Brian completely confused.

 

***

 

“Deaky?” he said, knocking on the bassist’s door. “Deaks, it’s Brian. Can I talk to you?” Deaky opened the door, and Freddie was sitting on his own bed.

“Yes?”

“Roger was reading a book earlier… and it was …. It was about bed wetting.” Deaky turned bright red.

“Oh, that’s weird. I wonder why--”

“He said it was because of you.” Freddie looked up from the paper he was writing on. “And then he freaked out and ran out of the room.”

“Bri, um…” He stepped out of the room and closed the door. “Oh, God. Look, I’m fine. Just… don’t worry, okay?”

“Deaky, do you--?”

“No. Er, yes. No. Just leave it be, please?” Brian’s brow knitted.

“I… okay. Sorry I… I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Night.” Deaky walked back into his own room, covering his face and laying down in his bed, not saying a word.

“Deaky?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“It’s not about that. I was just… I was curious about what happened when we were at that club.” Deaky didn’t move, even though he could feel tears welling up inside of him. He brain was breaking from all of the sadness he’d been keeping inside.

“Nothing happened, Freddie.”

“Now, I know for a fact, darling, that that’s not true.” Deaky sat up, clearly angry.

“Freddie, please leave it alone!” No reply, so he laid back down and closed his eyes. It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight, Fred. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Deaky didn’t know if he should say it, but he had to.

“I didn’t know people treated you so badly.”

“What do you… oh, darling, did somebody--?”

“No. But I’m still sorry.” No reply, so they both went to sleep.


End file.
